The Music Box Dancer
by PhantomKat
Summary: Haunted Mansion. A ballet dancer comes to stay at the mansion and inadvertently disrupts Leota’s work. Leota takes drastic steps to get back at her.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Music Box Dancer  
**Author: **PhantomKat  
**Genre: **Supernatural  
**Rating:** G  
**Characters: **Mostly George, Leota, and an original character, but other characters pop up.  
**Setting:** The wonderfully grim Haunted Mansion.  
**Summary: **A ballet dancer comes to stay at the mansion and in advertently disrupts Leota's work. Leota takes drastic steps to get back at her.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Haunted Mansion or anything affiliated with it, but oh if I did…

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Before we start, I'd like to give a brief shout out to my wonderful BETA Gabby. You rock! Ok, now on with the show...er, story! Enjoy!

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**1940**

George Gracey sat at his desk tinkering with an old music box. The box had belonged to his aunt, Victoria, when she was a young girl, but over the years, it had broken. George had hoped that he could fix it in time for his aunt's birthday next week; however, the years of wear were a difficult adversary. Rust and stripped screws had populated the innards of the box. It had taken George weeks to fix the mechanics. He set down his screwdriver and opened the lid.

Music from Tchaikovsky's _Sleeping Beauty_ poured from the box, while a tiny figure of a ballerina pirouetted in the centre. Every detail of the box was perfect, from the expression of joy on the red headed dancer's face to the gold painted flowers that adorned the outside of the white ceramic box. Gently, George shut the lid and set the box in one of his large desk drawers. He then turned his attention to his work.

His client had many files and George knew that there would be many a sleepless night of going over these documents. It wasn't as if anyone would miss him, except perhaps Victoria. He sighed as his thoughts wandered from the paperwork to his late wives.

Lily – the love of his life and Emily – so young. He missed them both, although Emily wasn't with him for long. He felt cursed in love; doomed to be alone. Slowly, his mind wandered back to his case and stayed there for hours.

At five o' clock, Victoria burst into the room to find George bent over his work, scribbling furiously on a legal pad. His hair was somewhat disheveled from running his hands through it, and he'd thrown off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His tie was loose and askew, but still around his neck.

"George!"

He looked up and pushed his dark hair out of his tired eyes.

"Hello, Victoria."

"You look like a mess. Get up, dear."

He looked at her blankly for a moment.

"George, get up! And be quick about it."

"Victoria, what…"

Victoria was bustling around gathering his suit jacket, straitening his tie, and combing his hair back with her fingers. She chattered on as she hurried around him.

"You should wash your hands; you have pencil marks all over them. And why won't this hair lay flat."

She began an attempt to flatten his hair, but George foiled her attempt by brushing her had away. Undaunted, she began unrolling his sleeves and trying to remove the graphite.

"Victoria, what is going on?" He loosened his tie a bit; he'd never liked tight things around his neck.

Victoria brushed off his jacket and put it on him as she answered.

"Miss Irvine, the dancer, is coming in a few minutes! Don't tell me you forgot! Really, George. Come on she'll be here any minute."

She pulled him out of the room, practically dragging him down the dark, shadowy halls in her enthusiasm. Undisturbed by the darkness, she still prattled on.

"George, we must have a gala for her! Not tonight, of course. Tonight is the party for Marc and Kim. Oh, how happy they look together! I've heard quite a bit about this young lady. She's said to be one of the best dancers anywhere, and quite lovely too."

They finally reached the foyer, but that did not end Victoria's fussing.

"Stand up straight, George. What's that on your cheek?" She rubbed his cheek until the mark disappeared and his cheek turned a bright red. "Looked like pencil."

She shrugged and went back to brushing off his jacket, straightening his tie again, and other tasks. The sound of a motor and a car pulling up into the drive reached their ears.

"Here she is!" Victoria could barely contain her excitement.

There was a soft knock on the door. George walked to the door slowly and masterfully. Mustering his demeanor that consisted of a dramatic flair and a touch of airs, he slowly opened the door. The sight of a young woman greeted him. She couldn't have been much older than twenty-one, and she wore a white suit that contrasted with her brunette hair. In her hand, she carried a simple suitcase, and she looked up at him through thick eyelashes.

"Miss Irvine, I presume?"

"You presume correctly. I then presume that you are the illustrious Master Gracey, are you not?"

She had a slight impish look in her eyes, as if she was in on some private joke. George almost smiled in spite of himself.

"Won't you come in, Miss Irvine?"

"Thank you, I'd be delighted."

As she stepped over the threshold of the manor, her eyes flickered to the portrait above the fireplace and back to George. He pretended not to notice her slightly appreciative gaze and instead introduced her to Victoria.

"Oh, it's lovely to meet you, Miss Irvine."

"Please, call me Julia."

"Very well then, Julia. You must come and see the ballroom. I do hope you will dance for us." Victoria began to lead her down the hall. Julia looked surprised, at both the enthusiasm and the strength of the woman. Her talking grew fainter as they walked into the bowels of the manor. George stuck his hands casually into his trouser pockets and watched the two ladies disappear from sight. As they walked away some of the words jumped out at him, to be specific 'gala on Friday'. Something in the back of his mind warned him of that date.

After shaking his head to clear it he looked back up at his portrait. It had been awhile since he'd looked at it. The picture had been painted before the Depression for his eighteenth birthday. He stared into his eyes, if that was possible, and found the bright blue unnerved him. His eyes had grown slightly darker over the years and weren't the intense blue they once were, but the rest of his features stayed true to the painting. Suddenly, the eyes blinked at him, or so he thought. Now a little more than unnerved, he walked quickly down the hall to the study. What he didn't know is that the eyes followed him down the hall and watched as he walked out of sight. The pair of eyes blinked again and turned a bright, poisonous, green before disappearing completely.

-X-

He walked into the conservatory. This was his favourite place just to come and think. As September began to grow cool and leaves began to fall, the exotic plants flourished. At the centre of the greenhouse was an object to satisfy some of George's macabre sense of humour. An intricately carved coffin sat there with a funeral wreath propped up on an easel.

Gracey had been told that the coffin had belonged to a European who was made to believe, by his enemies, that he was a descendant of Vlad the Impaler and a vampire. He was put in his coffin by day and the lid was nailed down every night by his enemies. Every night he tried to get out, but to no avail. Finally, he died of suffocation.

But what really had attracted George was the legend that at night his body still tries to escape its prison. With his mechanical expertise, he had rigged the lid to lift and placed the skeleton's hands as if he was trying to lift it. Whenever guests would come to tour the room, he would pull his little prank.

His ears caught the sound of heels clicking echoing through the empty halls. Never had he resisted the chance to scare people. He watched as Julia walked into the room. Standing stock still, only his eyes followed her as she examined the plants scattered about the room. She liked the silence and the solitude of the room. Unfortunately, George could hold in his eagerness no longer. In a deep, silky, dramatic voice, he addressed her.

"Good evening, Miss Irvine."

Julia jumped slightly and whirled around. There was an amused gleam in his eyes. She looked back at him with an equal gleam in her eyes.

"Good evening, to you too, Master Gracey." She walked over to stand across from him." Do you always hang around with Venus flytraps and…" She glanced at the casket. "…coffins?"

"From time to time, but this coffin has a story."

"Most coffins do."

"Well, yes, but this is a truly chilling tale resulting in the death of a would-be vampire."

She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.

"Tell me."'

The gleam in George's eyes grew brighter.

"With pleasure. I bought this coffin from a man named Vincent Toombs."

"Toombs? That was his name?"

"Yes, quite ironic isn't it? Anyway, he told me an interesting story of the original owner. The man who is enclosed in here," he patted the top of the coffin, "was tricked into thinking he was…"

From behind him, a raven cawed loudly. They both turned to find the bird perched on the funeral wreath and a figure emerging from the shadows. A woman stepped into what light there was. She was tall with jet-black curly hair and bright green eyes. She moved with grace and dignity. If Disney's _Sleeping Beauty_ had been released in 1940 then this woman could be compared with Maleficent. She held out her hand and the raven hopped on.

"Now, now my pet, don't interrupt the Master's story." She looked at the pair. "Are you still telling that story, Master Gracey?"

A pink blush could be seen developing underneath his collar. "Hello, Leota. This is Miss Julia Irvine, a dancer."

"Charmed, I'm sure." She took Julia's hand in a firm shake as her eyes flickered between the two. Julia cringed faintly at Leota's firm grip and ice-cold hand.

"Likewise."

"So what have you been up to Leota?" Gracey's tone sounded a bit anxious. "Have you found her yet?"

"Just the usual: summoning spirits, reading tea leaves and tarot cards. I haven't found her, but she will show herself in time."

"Will you be joining us for…?"

"No, I have no intention of leaving my readings tonight. It's almost the thirteenth, and since my last attempt was foiled in October, I suggest you keep things quiet."

"Yes…I-I'll tell Victoria."

"Thank you. By the way you haven't seen my daughter around, have you?" It seemed that she put an emphasis on the word daughter.

"N-no, should I have?" George glanced around a bit nervously as he answered.

Leota just stared at him in silence for a moment instead of answering. Then she turned and walked out of the room just as silently.

"Who was that?" asked Julia after they had watched the gypsy disappear into the shadows.

"My live-in psychic."

Julia just looked into the shadows confused about the conversation she had just witnessed.

"What sort of a man," she thought, "keeps a live-in psychic and a coffin in his conservatory?"

-X-

Quiet fell over the mansion. The shadowed corridors became darker and the house itself settled into an eerie state. No one was up and about, save for two people. Behind a door marked _Leota's Boudoir_ came the sound of chanting.

The inside of the room was filled with curious objects. Tapestries and charts adorned the walls. In the centre of the room was a round table covered in red fabric. Two dark wood chairs padded with dark fabric sat at the table. The only light in the room came from candles of all varieties and the green glow of the crystal ball in the centre of the table.

Leota sat over her crystal ball, peering into the green smoke that filled the ball. Across from her sat Master Gracey. He was eagerly awaiting her verdict.

_Spirits from the grave, ghouls beneath!  
Show us the one shredded by a reptile's teeth!_

"Do you have to put it like that?"

Leota silenced him with a look.

_Ghoulies pick up the pace!  
Show us the girl, show us her face!_

Suddenly the candles blew out and the small circular room was enveloped in darkness except for the glow from the crystal ball.

_You have showed us a sign!  
Now finish the job by your own design!_

George peered into the green mist hoping against hope that he would see her. For a split second a face of a beautiful young woman with her brown hair in ringlets and her eyes bright with amusement appeared. The picture disappeared along with the smoke, encasing the room in total darkness.

"That was her!" George's voice was full of happiness and he looked as if he was about to jump around the séance room. Leota lit the candles beside her and answered with an air of indifference.

"Yes, I suppose it was."

Her raven cawed loudly from its perch above Leota's head.

"Yes, well, very successful. Now, master, if you don't mind, I would like to rest. This has taken away much energy."

"Of course. Until tomorrow night then."

Leota nodded at him and he opened the door and descended the stairs. He was so happy he felt like he could fly. Quietly down the hall he did a Dick Van Dyke-like dance, clicking his heels all the way.

Leota closed the door and let out a soft malicious laugh.

"Well, my pet, he certainly is gullible, isn't he?"

The raven only cawed in reply.

"The poor fool doesn't even know that I've got her trapped in these walls never to be seen, heard, or freed."

The raven looked her with its beady red eyes.

"And in a days time I'll have the means to have him and his fortune. He doesn't have a clue! It's all so delicious!"

She started laughing again and she slumped into her chair.

"Oh, on the stroke of twelve on Friday night I will have the power to do anything."

The clock in her room struck one and the raven cawed along with it.

"Off to bed, my pet. We have a big night coming up."

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That was Chapter One. I hope you liked it and hopefully it will be updated again next Friday. Please Review.  



	2. Chapter 2

Hey, everyone! Before we start, I'd like to give out some shout-outs. First, to Gabby, my awesome BETA. Thanks for the help. Second, to Anthony, you know who you are. Happy Birthday! And last but certainly not least, thanks to Aquarian Wolf and Mr. Nobody for their wonderful reviews, and to Werecat Boy for putting this story in the Haunted Mansion archive.

And now...the moment you've all been waiting for. The exciting conclusion to The Music Box Dancer. Enjoy!

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The next few days passed uneventfully, but on the morning of the thirteenth a small dispute broke out in the ballroom. Actually, it was more of George freaking out and Victoria ignoring him, but it was somewhat of a skirmish.

"Victoria, you can't plan this for to night. Leota said that…"

"Oh, pish posh! She doesn't know what she's talking about. Anyhow, there's no way of turning back now, dear. Everyone is already invited. Miss Irvine is to dance you know. Watching her at that last party was breathtaking."

"Yes, very." He practically mumbled the words to himself. Louder, he replied, "Victoria, you very well know that…"

"Not another argument," she said cheerfully. "Everything will be fine. Now run along."

She went back to her clipboard after dismissing him and went over one of the many lists clipped there. Dejected, annoyed, and a little worried George headed to the huge double doors that lead to the hallway. He hated it when she treated him like a child, but he hated it more when she didn't listen to him. After all, he was the master of the manor. He reached the doors and glanced up at the hall that lead to Leota's quarters nervously. Shaking his head, he left the ballroom and ran straight into Julia.

"I am terribly sorry, Miss Irvine."

"Julia," she corrected.

"Julia."

He offered her his hand, which she graciously took and lifted her up off the floor.

"Thank you."

He noticed the pink shoe ribbons dangling from her hands and her curious attire. She wore pink tights, a black leotard, and around her waist was a black chiffon skirt. Dangling from the pink ribbons was a pair of toe shoes. Inside the shoes was a pair of worn socks that looked like they had been pink some time ago.

"Going to…practice?" Why did he always manage to get tongue-tied around her?

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

She opened the door to the ballroom to find a peculiar scene. Workers were bustling around a shouting match in the centre of the ballroom. Victoria and the organist, Wolfgang Furlong, were both red in the face.

"You can't do this! I must be able to practice!"

"Nonsense! You practice everyday all day! Not even Ludwig practices that much!"

"He is not the best organist in the world!"

"And you are?!"

"Yes! And to keep that title I must be able to practice!"

"One day without practising won't kill you!"

The workers rolled there eyes. They had heard this all before. Every time Victoria had a party, she wouldn't let Wolfgang in until just before the doors were opened to the guests. The arguments usually ended in Victoria's favor, but sometimes Wolfgang won out. Today was not one of those days.

Victoria pushed the protesting organist out the door and slammed it in his face just as he was opening his mouth to protest further. For a second Wolfgang stared at the dark wood, then he tugged on the bottom of his jacket to straighten it and announced angrily to no one in particular,

"Never have I been thus treated! I, the greatest organist in the entire world. This is an outrage!"

He stormed down one of the many dimly lit corridors still ranting. Julia and George watched him go with varying amounts of amusement on their faces.

"Is he always like that?"

"Pretty much."

They heard a small childish giggle coming from behind them. A small girl, perhaps eight years of age, was skipping towards them holding a little doll. She had dark black curly hair and bright blue-green eyes. Her doll looked exactly like her, except it looked older and had on a white dress.

"Hi."

Julia bent down so she was at eye level with the little girl.

"Hi. What's your name?"

"I'm LL."

"LL?"

"Yep."

"Well, I'm Julia."

"I know. My doll told me."

Julia looked at the doll and up at George with a raised eyebrow. George merely shrugged at her silent question. LL noticed nothing and went on talking.

"My mother gave me this doll. She knows everything."

"Your mother or the doll?"

LL giggled. "Both."

"LL, I hate to interrupt, but where's Prudence?"

She smiled mischievously and giggled again.

"We're playing hide and seek."

"Again?"

"Mmm-hmm. And I've…"

The sound of footsteps cut her off. Her eyes became wide and excited.

"Hide me!"

Julia glanced around and spotted a large oriental vase. She lifted up LL and gently placed her inside. LL just fit. She stood on tiptoe to see out. As a shadow spilled into the corridor, she whispered "Act normal" and ducked down.

The corners of Julia's mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile, but never the less she complied with LL's request. Seconds later a young woman with her frizzy hair in a bun ran into the hallway.

"Oh, Master Gracey," she did a small, almost saucy, curtsy as she tried to catch her breath "have you seen LL?"

The girl in question squirmed and stifled a giggle.

"No, I can't say that I have."

Julia almost cracked a smile at his performance. He played the part of a snob who couldn't be bothered well, but the twinkle in his eyes and the half smile he gave her told her that it was all an act. Prudence let out a sigh of frustration as she ran off down the corridors mumbling to herself.

"…never around when there are lessons to be done, oh no. They don't need a nanny for her they need a ruddy zookeeper."

LL peeked out from inside the vase to check that Prudence was really gone. She grinned as Julia lifted her out.

"You're good." LL scooped up her doll from where she'd dropped it. She looked down the hallway that Prudence had just entered. The sound of footsteps was coming back toward the ballroom doors.

"Uh oh." LL grabbed Julia's hand. "Come on, we're going to need more hiding places."

She began to tow Julia after her down the hallway that she had originally come from. Julia waved a quick good-bye from George before she disappeared into the shadows with LL. George could hear LL quietly talking with Julia as they scurried out of sight.

"Is there going to be a party tonight?"

"As far as I know, there's going to be one."

Unnoticed by anyone, the doll's eyes began to glow an eerie green. Back in her séance room, Leota peered into her crystal ball using the doll as a sort of camera. She slammed her fists on the table in frustration. The picture in the ball disappeared into the swirling green mist.

"They're still going through with it," she thought incredulously, "I have waited for three years, and they're not going to stop me this time."

With that, she pulled out one of her numerous spell books and began to study it intently, biding her time until tonight.

-X-

That night the house was filled with people and noise waiting to see Julia. Victoria was bustling around mingling with people, being the perfect hostess, and trying to promote Julia. George, on the other hand, stood in the shadows of the ballroom and glanced nervously at the hallway that lead to Leota's quarters. Wolfgang was playing the organ, but he still muttered to himself and glared daggers at Victoria whenever he had the chance.

Leota sat at her round table ready to complete her plan. Her raven sat on a stand next to the door. Leota had sent LL down to the party with her doll. That way she could see everything. Even though the spirits were scared away by the noise, Leota was sure she could entice some of them out in the open to do her bidding.

She saw that the crowd was being pushed to the edges of the room. Julia would make her entrance soon, she was sure of it. It was almost time.

The lights dimmed and Julia came out gracefully from the shadows. The soft lighting made her glow as she started to dance. Two tiny green glowing pinpricks that were LL's doll saw everything. Leota smiled wickedly as she began to chant.

_Spirits! There are debts to be paid  
Come to me and render aid!_

In the ballroom the huge double doors flew open sending a strong gust of wind through out the room, which startled the guests and almost threw Julia off her feet. Two wispy strings of smoky supernatural material threaded their way toward Julia.

_Help me close this sordid case  
Trap her here in this cursed place. _

The wisps' ends separated to form claws that grabbed at Julia's throat. Her eyes were wide with fear. George tried to push through the throng of stunned onlookers to help her. He had almost reached her when a claw clutched her throat and the room was pitched into darkness. A loud and terrified scream came from Julia's direction.

Leota smiled at the chaos she had caused. No doubt the fools would go out looking for her like she had run away or something. There was nothing to do but sit back and watch the pandemonium.

-X-

George walked into his office and collapsed in his desk chair. After they had gotten the lights turned back on, they had found no trace of Julia. Victoria had quickly formed search parties and sent them out to various places around the manor. They had searched for hours to no avail.

George sighed and ran his raked his fingers through his hair in a frustrated and preoccupied gesture. He knew what really happened, but there was no way he could prove it. Leota was trouble and he knew it.

He glanced over to his desk and was surprised to find the music box sitting there. He was sure that he had returned it to the safety of his desk drawer. He looked at it for a moment with a confused look on his face. Then he reached over and opened the box.

Tchaikovsky's music filled the office lulling his tired mind to sleep. As he closed his eyes, he wondered one thing: Where had Leota sent Julia?

The music went on as sleep claimed George. If George had looked at the music box any closer he would have noticed two important things that may have answered his question.

The twirling dancer's hair had changed from red to brown. And now her expression of joy was one of great sadness with two tiny tears running down her cheeks.


End file.
